


Counting the Years By

by iezzern



Series: The Vanserra Legacy [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iezzern/pseuds/iezzern
Summary: The Vanserra brothers by the years, their growing up, and actions after the War.Beron's mark never leaves them, not truly.(Updates weekly)
Relationships: Eris Vanserra & Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra & Original Character(s), Lucien Vanserra & Original Character(s)
Series: The Vanserra Legacy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033671
Comments: 25
Kudos: 25





	1. I. Eris

**Author's Note:**

> If this is your first time in this series, please read the previous fics, because this will not make proper sense without them. There is no need to read "The Warrior and his Shadow", but it is recommended if you want full context.  
> I can't believe I had this labelled as "Vanserra happy fic" in my files, it's most definitely not...  
> Enjoy!

Eris Vanserra was always meant to be a High Lord. All the signs said so. Too much of Beron’s power had passed into him for him to not be next in line. His brothers have known since they were children. No one thought to challenge him except for the twins, but now the twins were dead.

In the Autumn Court, High Lord was the same as ‘cruel’. In the Autumn Court, survival meant being cruel. Eris had been a soft child. A kind, apple-cheeked, little wonder. Beron had drawn that out of him the first time he’d made Eris kill his own pet fox.

Eris Vanserra did not cry, because all his tears were dried up. He’d learned not to let them slip—he’d learned how to survive. He never got scared. Showing fear meant showing Father weakness and if Father was shown weakness, he would kill Eris. No High Lord wanted a weak heir.

The only time Eris had allowed himself to feel fear was when Mother had been in her room the entire day, screaming at the top of her lungs. Mother’s maid said it was a wonderful thing. Father had an interesting gleam in his eyes. Eris thought that if it brought Mother this much pain, it wasn’t worth it.

Mother spent the night sobbing. Father spent it destroying his office. Mother’s maid spent it cleaning up a messy pool of blood and…something else from Mother’s floor. She was weeping. Mother didn’t want to see Eris for a few days after that. Eris cried himself to sleep.

Eris grew up and learned not to feel anything when Mother shied away from him. He vowed to never let another female turn into…whatever Mother had become.

Eris was 38 when the twins were born. Robyn so loud in his cries and Korren so very quiet. They were scared he’d been dead when he was born. They were both so pale. Mother’s maid said they looked beautiful, Mother was quiet, and Eris thought they looked halfway to their deathbed already.

Father never failed to remind Eris that he now had two challengers for his place as High Lord. Eris had stood above their cribs, considering, and then vomiting over the fact that he’d even _thought the thought._

The twins grew up and Joash was born. He also looked sickly. Not really there. Korren was protective over the little runt. Eris let him be. Didn’t tell Father about it, even. Robyn clung to Eris. Eris let him. Mother’s maid told Father. Robyn’s clinginess persevered in spite of Father’s beatings.

Neri was the change. Neri was _so alive_ when born. Laughing and giggling, and eyes filled with so much happiness. Eris melted. Robyn melted. Joash hated him. That was why Neri nearly always came to Eris with tears in his eyes.

Rennari was born between two miscarriages. Mother was so distant to him, it was no wonder he turned out the way he did.

Lucien, she loved. With all her heart. Eris hated it and loved it at the same time.

He’d stopped showing emotion a long time ago. Lucien didn’t know him outside of coldness and cruelty. A part of Eris wanted to cry at that, most of Eris wasn’t able to anymore.

Eris was Father’s favorite because Eris was the one detached far enough from his feelings to do the difficult things. Mother wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore, not even privately. Especially after Eris confronted her about Lucien and Helion and _what he knew_.

Lucien was in danger—would always be while in the Autumn Court. Just another thing to add to Eris’ constant headache.

He really wanted things to change. To save his brothers from this goddamn hellhole. While Beron was in charge, he couldn’t. Unquestionably so. Eris started planning—carefully, subtly, and out of sight. Beron didn’t see him coming.

Eris had turned many of the fae in the court, with great effort. All small words, stinging comments and planted doubts. Eris turned Beron’s pride and power into cowardice and selfishness. So quietly not even Beron noticed it himself.

The war was almost a blessing when it came like a blight upon the land. Beron refused to join it, to help the people—his people. That’s how the Court saw it—How Eris _made_ the Court see it.

Tamlin coming to their court—dragging Father out screaming and kicking, was the last drop. The last shove Eris needed to take the Court. Father was weak in his indecisiveness and folly, the Court had whispered many days after the War, it is time the power moves on.

Eris sent a letter to Lucien, thinking he might want to be present for this.

The hallway is dark and empty. No guards at any doors, at Eris’ quiet order. Joash is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Rennari is sitting by Eris’ feet, knees drawn up to his chest. Neri is leaning on his shoulder.

Lucien arrives in a winnow of warm air and the smell of a hot summer’s morning. His hair is tied in an intricate braid, following the standard Day Court fashion. He has a glowing, silver necklace around his throat. A gift from Rhys and Feyre. It looks good on him.

Lucien gives Eris a nod, which he returns, and they set course for Father’s chambers.

It’s not particularly bloody or violent. No dramatic words or speeches. Just Eris with his knife across Beron’s throat, watching his eyes widen in surprise before his body starts jerking around. It’s not a quick death, but it is silent—Beron’s eyes flickering to his sons who do nothing to help him.

Eris could’ve done this on his own. It would’ve been safer, by all means. But he wanted them here. To give them his death, and to show him the fruit of his labor. He raised his sons in cruelty, and now his sons killed him in cruelty. Justice, in a way.

The Court doesn’t think much of it. There are rumors, of course, and some Courtiers that need to be taken care of, but it is otherwise a quiet affair. Eris takes his throne without much fuss, falling into a position he’s been comfortable with for many years.

Most of the other High Lords and their Courts don’t expect much change. After all, he is a spitting image of his father in their eyes. Maybe that’s why there are so many widened eyes when the Autumn Court is the second court, after Summer, to get rid of the arbitrary _High Fae – Lesser Fae_ system. The reform is named after Jesminda, Eris made sure of that.

Lucien gives Eris the longest hug he’s ever gotten after the verdict, curling into his shoulder with all the vulnerability only a little brother can show. They’re fully in public, affection would be a weakness to show. Would leave Eris open to betrayal and over-rulings.

But those were the rules of his father’s court. This is Eris’ court. And he can do whatever the hell he wants. He very nearly lifts Little Lucien off the ground with the force of his grip on him. A smile he’d almost forgotten how to make creeps onto his lips, and he lets himself sink into the warmth of having Little Lucien against his chest.

The change is slow but inevitable. Eris can’t stop smiling when he realizes. He’s done something his father never could do, and only through words and determination. He’s changed the way they think, the way their traditions are displayed. Eris has changed the entire goddamn Autumn Court when his only goal was to save his brothers from it.

It is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.


	2. II. The Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robyn was born first and that was very important. Korren thought it was less important, but Korren’s opinion on it didn’t really matter overall. Because he was younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got tired of waiting, so this chapter comes a little early.   
> Here we go, my first OC chapter
> 
> I just want to say that when you read this, you're explicitly reading from the point of view from the brothers, the way they view themselves and the situation, I thought it was extremely important to mention at this chapter, bc it delves into a lot of messed up stuff of Beron's abuse  
> Enjoy

Robyn was born first and that was very important. Korren thought it was less important, but Korren’s opinion on it didn’t really matter overall. Because he was younger.

The twins had grown up as one person. Meaning they stayed as far away from each other’s interests as possible and never wore matching clothing. Never in a thousand years would they be mistaken for each other.

Robyn liked the bow; Korren the sword. Robyn liked maroon; Korren deep aqua. Robyn enjoyed sweets; Korren tough meats. And yet so many people made jokes about how alike they were. Robyn and Korren made a game out of imagining the most painful deaths possible for them.

Eris was an enigma to both. Sometimes he would be there, sometimes he would not. Sometimes he would be loving, sometimes he would not. Sometimes he would follow father’s orders, sometimes he would not.

He was grown, so much more grown than both of them. He seemed so adult. So mature. It was obvious he liked the attention he got from his younger brothers, it made him smile. It just didn’t seem he wanted their attention whenever someone important was near.

Maybe the only thing the twins had in common was that they loved being older brothers. Korren had always babied Joash and Robyn had always babied Neri…Well, before _it_ , they’d always babied them. There was a certain joy in a toddler waddling up to one and grabbing at their leg. Korren and Robyn both found it an ethereal experience.

None of them could really remember Katya. Her presence had started to fade, already, when the twins had been born. They didn’t resent her. They didn’t love her. They just didn’t feel anything for her.

Around the year Rennari was born, Father grew tired of the twins being “soft”. He took them out to the northern mountains, left a scorching wound on Korren’s shoulder and left them out there. No weapons. No food. Nothing. He’d also hired killers. Dangerous killers.

The border between autumn and winter was ruthless. Cold wind upon cold wind, rain and ice. Blizzards and storms. The first day, Korren had tasted blood while ripping out a faes throat with his teeth. He’d become more familiar with that taste during their stay.

They quickly figured out Father wouldn’t be coming back for them, and so they had to make their way back home. Neither knew how to winnow yet. Neither cared enough to know. They wished they cared now.

Their fifteenth day started with a knife to Robyn’s throat and Korren’s pleas for mercy. The fae behind Robyn had grinned without pity and pressed the knife closer to his throat. A single drop of blood trailed down his skin. Korren didn’t remember what happened.

All he knew was that he came to while sitting on top of a mangled body, the fae’s knife in his hand and Robyn screaming his name in his ear. Korren shoved him away and went to vomit in the snow. One truly never forgets ones first kill. Korren would kill many before they were to return home.

At night, he’d laid down close to Robyn and promised he’d never hurt on Korren’s behalf again. Robyn had laughed at that but fell asleep smiling. In the morning, Korren woke with a beast’s teeth through his arm. Robyn had to tear its throat out with his teeth—he, too, vomited. Korren was there to hold his hair back. The wound got infected—after, Korren had a forever green scar there.

Robyn got sick at the end of the month, a feverish look in his eyes. Korren had never been so terrified in his life, as when he saw Robyn coughing up blood. One of the fae sent to kill them had healing abilities. Korren did not hesitate to use whatever forces necessary to make this fae help Robyn.

He’d taken four fingers first. And then an entire arm. And then the fae gave up and healed Robyn. And then Korren killed the fae, so Father wouldn’t get news of Robyn getting sick. He didn’t regret anymore. Couldn’t regret. It was either the fae or Robyn, and that wasn’t even the shadow of a choice.

The twins managed to survive, but they were never quite as soft as before. They also didn’t hold the same respect for their father, even if they kept the fear. None of their brothers ever got to know. They carried that secret to their graves.

Lucien brought so much trouble with him. He was little and sweet and had the power to challenge Eris. The twins didn’t want to get too close to him, but they were in the habit of doting. And so Lucien became the much-beloved baby brother. He'd sit on their arms and coo and point and laugh. Sometimes, Korren leaned their foreheads together, close his eyes, and pretended that he would be a decent father if he ever got a child. He wanted a child. Sometime. If a female would honor him with one.

They had a few years with calmness, with happiness and _nothing horrible_ aside from Rennari’s occasional alcoholic phases, and then Lucien had to go and ruin it. Neri, of course, was not to blame. Ruth was.

But Lucien had told Robyn about it. And Robyn had gone after Ruth. And Father had given Robyn consequences for it. And Korren had promised Robyn would never get hurt again. And now Lucien had gotten Robyn hurt.

It was not kind, but it had always been Robyn or the rest—and that wasn’t even a choice. Robyn wanted to go easier on the kid, but the kid hadn’t been on that mountain for two months and hadn’t seen Robyn laying in a pool of his own blood. He hadn’t felt the fear of _losing Robyn_. And so he was nothing to Korren. Fucking _nothing_.

It’d been so easy to hold him down, see his pathetic little whore of a girlfriend get ripped to pieces. It’d been so easy to ignore his pleas and cries. It’d been so easy to ignore Robyn’s sickly pale face next to him. It’d been so very easy.

Robyn didn’t want to chase after Lucien, said they’d done enough. Korren pressured him, eyes blazing and voice spitting. Lucien had hurt them so much, was responsible for Robyn being hurt. Was responsible for Father turning even more cruel.

Robyn agreed, but he purposefully lagged behind, giving poor, little Lucien more time to get to Spring. Korren wanted to get angry at him, but he could never get angry with Robyn. Joash was the quickest of them, so lost in the taste of blood and violence.

At the edge of Spring, they caught up with itty-bitty Lucien, and Korren couldn’t help getting dragged into Joash’s jeering. Robyn doesn’t join in, and by consequence ends up at the front. He reaches a hand out and nearly has Lucien in his grasp and then that Spring brat jumps forward to bite at his hand.

Korren’s heart freezes over when he hears a sick crunch, followed by a whimper from Robyn. Rage overtakes it in seconds. Korren throws himself at Lucien, mouth snarling at sword in hand. Lucien is so much smaller than him, and he can’t help but remember that sweet little boy who would cling to him and cry on his arm and sleep tucked into his side.

It makes him hesitate for a small moment, and that small moment is all Lucien needs to meet his blow. Korren snarls and then proceeds to yell at Joash to stay back. He’s not losing two little brothers today.

Lucien is swift, dancing away from cuts and stabbing his knife where it hurts most. Korren is used to it, has seen the little runt train for most of his life. And Lucien is holding back. Doesn’t really want to hurt him. He ducks under Korren’s arm, has the perfect chance to run his blade through Korren’s chest, but instead just nicks it at his waist.

Korren shoves his elbow backwards, sends Lucien sprawling to the ground. He raises his sword, ready to slice down and then he hears Robyn _scream_. A short second—Korren turns to find Tamlin’s teeth through Robyn’s throat.

Robyn’s eyes find his and they’re so wide and terrified and Korren turns his body because _nonononono_ , and then Tamlin _rips_ and that little spark disappears from Robyn’s already lifeless eyes and Korren goes _cold_.

It’s his fault. He forced Robyn to come. Robyn didn’t want to. Not really. Didn’t dare to. And Korren had…He’d killed his brother. Had given Tamlin the chance to rip his throat out. All Korren’s fault and now his Robyn was gone. Korren was going to protect Robyn from monsters, and now _he_ was the monster.

His body went limp; his sword slid out of his hand. Lucien hadn’t realized yet and so he came charging, expected Korren to dodge. Korren didn’t dodge. Lucien’s knife landed right where it was supposed to. Korren couldn’t feel the pain. “Oh,” he just said and collapsed to the ground. Lucien went with him, arms wrapping around him.

Little, precious Lucien. He looks crestfallen, broken. Korren wished he never made his brother a killer. He was the protector, he was the one who had to make sure none of the others were hurt, and yet it was _his decision_ that brought them so much pain.

He deserved to die.

“I—I…” he whimpers, needs Lucien to _know_. Needs him to understand he never wanted _any of this_. “Little Lucie, I—I…”

Little Lucie who would laugh and smile and take his hand and _what the hell has Korren done._ What the hell has Korren made him.

He wants more time. To make things right. To make Lucien smile again. To save Neri. To help Rennari. _Fuck_. He needs to tell Eris, tell him that he can’t let this continue. That their brothers have to be kept safe. That Father has to be _killed_. Korren wants his mom.

Lucien, little Lucien, leans his forehead against Korren’s. He’s crying. “Don’t leave me,” Korren can hear him whimper and Korren knows he will not be able to obey. He presses a kiss to Lucien’s forehead and thinks how a monster he is. Who can’t even give his little brother this one little thing after making him a killer.

The Twins are never mentioned in the Forest House again until Beron is well dead and burned. Even after then it takes a long time.

It never stops hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter; if you did, I'd appreciate it if you told me specifics or similar things in the comments! Kudos are also appreciated!


End file.
